Each Coming Night
by Insane And Out Of Your Mind
Summary: Retcon of pretty much everything that's been written in the past five years. Focuses on Alexis. Includes Kristina Cassadine, Stefan, Jax, Luke, and others. See inside for details
1. I'll Say I Knew You When

**Each Coming Night**

Author: Cate

Summary: A total retcon of the past five years or so, centering on Alexis, because the show just sucks now and if the ABC higher-ups won't change it, I will.

Rating: PG-13, just to be safe.

Background: I'm taking pretty much everything the Lords Of Suck have written and turning it on it's ass, so you might want to pay attention. Major details I've changed are as follows (and I'll probably be adding to this list as the fic goes on):

1. Alexis would never condescend to give Sonny the time of day, let alone agree to be his attorney or get involved with his greasy ass in any way. Come on, let's get real here. She's a Cassadine by blood and he's a lowlife, unwashed, barware-throwing, puerile, misogynistic thug.

2. Know what? Scratch that. **Sonny doesn't exist.** Best not to have the tiny, nekkid emperor plaguing us at all.

3. Jason is off the canvas, having regained his memory but never totally forgiving AJ. He works as a doctor in some distant town and checks in with Monica and Alan once in a while, but doesn't visit.

4. Alexis' real identity as Natasha Cassadine isn't generally known to the public outside Port Chuckles.

5. I really don't know much about the Cassadine history pre-Stefan and Alexis, so if there's anything that's been said onscreen about them that doesn't match up with something in my fic, ignore it. I feel okay flying blind on this one because hell, if the show's writers clearly doesn't know (or respect) it's own history, why should I? But if there's some detail you feel compelled to inform me of, feel free.

Setting: The story starts off about six months after Chloe's death. Stefan has taken off to Europe, leaving Alexis alone with her grief and her newfound sister, Kristina. Jax has been letting Kristina stay at his penthouse while the sisters get to know each other.

Casting: I don't watch AMC much, but for some reason I keep picturing Thornston Kaye (Zach Slater) involved in some sort of Cassadine-like story. Hence, Grigoriy Viktorivitch.

Disclaimer: I'm not in any way affiliate with ABC or General Hospital, and at this point I can't say I'd want to be. Certain original characters, however, are mine.

Author's Note: Okay, so I'll admit that this doesn't start out very well. I haven't written in a while, so it's still coming back to me. I do have a definate idea in mind for where this is all going, and I promise it'll get much better. In the meantime, please review.

hr 

It was shaping up to be a pretty typical weekday. Alexis was sitting alone in Kelly's, waiting to meet Kristina for lunch, various legal documents strewn about on the table before her. She sensed someone behind her and smiled, opening her mouth to jokingly chide her sister for being late, but the words died on her lips as she glanced up. The figure before her was most definately not her sister, unless Kristina had somehow morphed into a large, dark, impeccably-dressed man. Alexis sat back, eyeing him curiously.

"Ms. Davis?" the man spoke, his voice deep and rich and carrying the hint of an accent she couldn't quite place.

"Yes," she responded, slightly annoyed at the interruption.

"Ah, so I've found you," he said, looking relieved for a moment before resuming a blank expression. "Good. Mind if I sit?"

"Who are you?" she asked abruptly as his smooth, strong hands fiddled with the back of the empty chair across from her.

"Someone who would very much like to work with you on certain... sensative... matters," he replied cryptically, gesturing again to the chair. She nodded, brows furrowed in intrigue, and he sat down. "Your reputation is quite extensive, Ms. Davis," he began, making himself comfortable. "Both in and out of the courtroom. You've worked with the Cassadine family for a number of years, have you not?"

"I have," she confirmed, searching his worn face quizzically.

He backtracked, noticing her puzzled expression. "Forgive me, perhaps 'worked with' was too impersonal a term. You're actually related to the Cassadines, correct? You lived with them on the island in Greece when you were a child."

Alexis sat up straighter, tensing immediately, but tried to hide it, fighting to keep her voice calm. "Who are you; how did you know that?"

"I've done my research," he replied with a smile, running a hand through his jet-black hair. "And I have proposition to make. Surely you've heard the stories surrounding your uncle, Mikkos, and an... an opera singer, was it? You must know the rumors, yes?"

_Uncle?_ Alexis was taken aback. How could he have researched her connection to the Cassadines without knowing that Mikkos was her father?

He mistook her silence for assent, and continued, "I come to you because I want to know if there is any truth to these rumors, and if so, how much truth. I think you, with your obvious connections to the family, are in a position to assist me."

"And why would I?" she asked, leaning forward, genuinely curious. "I still don't know exactly what it is you want; hell, I don't even know who you are."

The stranger smiled indulgently, leaning in to match her body language. "What I want is to find Mikkos' illegitimate child, Natasha, if indeed she does exist." Alexis gasped inaudibly, but before she could respond, Kristina entered the diner. He followed her eyes, and slowly got up. "My name is Grigoriy Viktorivitch. I'll be in touch."

She stared after him as he left, while her sister took the newly-vacant seat across from her. "Who was that?" Kristina asked, pointing a brightly manucured finger at the door. "A client?"

"Hmm?" Alexis said absently. "Oh, um, yes, I suppose."

Kristina raised an eyebrow. "Don't you ever stop working? It's your lunch hour, Alexis, take a break."

"Right," she responded, still not entirely there. She distractedly began shuffling papers into her briefcase as Penny came to take their orders, but throughout the meal she didn't once take her eyes - or her mind - off the door...


	2. Stop, Turn, Take A Look Around

"Luke," Alexis called, rapping gently on the door to the back office at Jake's before slowly pushing it open. She'd gone straight there after quickly finishing her lunch with Kristina, pausing just long enough to call her assistant and have all her afternoon appointments cancelled. Past experience had taught her that she couldn't be too careful when it came to the Cassadines, and if someone wanted to find Natasha - to find _her _- she needed to know why.

"Come on in, Natasha," he yelled back, and she entered quickly, pulling the door shut behind her.

"Don't call me that," she hissed, glancing around in a sudden fit of paranoia, and Luke looked up behind a stack of papers on his desk in surprise.

"Somethin' wrong, darlin'?" he asked. "It isn't your Dragon Lady stepmother, is it? 'Cause if it is, I'm a bit peeved at her myself. She don't call, she don't write..."

"It's not Helena," Alexis cut in, "Although I can't say I'd be surprised to find out she's involved somehow. Luke, do you know anything about a man by the name of Grigoriy Viktorivitch?"

Luke shrugged, shaking his head. "Should I?"

"I don't know," she replied exhasperatedly, perching herself on the edge of his desk. "He just approached me about working with him on matters relating to the Cassadines."

"What kinds of matters?"

Alexis leaned in so that she could keep her voice low and he would still hear her; in the process, though, inadvertently giving Luke a clear view down her low-cut black shirt that he had no intention of ignoring. "He wants me to help him find Natasha," she whispered.

Luke matched her body language, leaning in so their faces were mere inches apart. "Darlin'," he whispered back conspiratorially, "You _are _Natasha."

"I know that," she snapped, straightening up. "Clearly, he doesn't."

Luke made a face that clearly expressed his skepticism. "What is he, living under a rock? No, wait, don't tell me - he was just raised from the dead, right? If your nutjob family's involved, it's gotta be that one."

"Are you through?" she asked, tapping her fingers together impatiently.

"All kidding aside," he said, suddenly turning serious, "Why would this guy come to you if he didn't know who you are?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out," she replied. "Maybe he does know, but he's pretending he doesn't? I can't speculate as to why, really, until I know more about him. He said he'd done some research on the Cassadines, and came to me because of my work with them. He knew - or at least, he thinks he knows - that I'm Mikkos' niece, but my blood connection to the family didn't seem as important to him as my business dealings with them. Still, I can't imagine he'd know about Natasha without following the same trail you did to figure out that she's me."

"And this guy didn't tell you anything you can use to find out who he is?" Luke queried.

Alexis shook her head. "Aside from his name, no. He was very evasive, and he left as soon as Kristina showed up, so I didn't have time to try and draw anything out of him. He said he'd be in touch, though."

"Did he say when?"

"No."

"So you're just planning to what, wait by the phone?"

Alexis stopped drumming her fingers and looked up nervously. "I hadn't thought of that. He found me in Kelly's. Do you think he has my phone number?"

"Relax, Tash, I was being sarcastic."

"Oh." She stood up, and started to go, but paused when Luke spoke again.

"Natasha? You weren't planning on calling Count Vlad in on this, were you?"

"I..." Alexis hesitated. "I hadn't thought about it. I mean, he's only been home once since Chloe died, and that was just to meet Kristina for all of one weekend, then he went back to doing whatever the hell he's been doing and I haven't heard from him since... Why?"

"I just don't think it would be a good idea," he responded vaguely, knowing that if he were to go into detail she would fight him on it. He'd never understand the trust Alexis placed in her brother, and he certainly wasn't going to let his own guard down.

Alexis considered arguing, but decided it was unimportant; she hadn't planned on contacting Stefan anyway until she knew more, not because she put stock in Luke's conspiracy theories as to how he could be involved, but because there was simply nothing he could do. "I won't," she said simply before making her exit. Luke watched her go, then picked up the phone.

"Hey, it's me," he said into the receiver. "I need you to get me everything you can on a Grigoriy Viktorivitch. Yeah, I need it as soon as you can get it, and if you can keep it quiet..."

* * *

Grigoriy strolled into his hotel suite, not bothering to flip the light switch on the wall as he swiftly made his way across the room. It wasn't until he had seated himself on the couch at the far end that he bothered to turn on a lamp, and even when he did, he took no notice of his surroundings. He'd been in so many different hotels by now that they all looked the same, and he'd stopped paying attention to them long ago, though there were times, like now, when he appreciated having a quiet place to come and think.

He'd made a fool of himself with the Davis woman. He should have waited, watched her longer. It had been a colossal mistake to ambush her like that, and to rush out just as quickly. Might as well have held a neon sign above his head flashing, "Hi, don't trust me."

As a boy, his father had often scolded him for his impatience. Even now, he could hear the dead man's voice in his head, chastising him for his carelessness. But patience had never been a virtue of his, and by God, hadn't he waited long enough?

He sighed, running a hand absently through his dark mop of hair. He knew the answer to that. Of course he hadn't, and he'd pay for it in time. But he would fix his mistakes. Reaching over, he grabbed his laptop off a nearby table, and set off on the Information Superhighway to find out everything he didn't already know about one Ms. Alexis Davis - and, while he was at it, her redhaired friend from the diner.

* * *

Author's Note: So, are we liking this? Hating it? Click that sexy purple button down there and tell me! 


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